a Moral Conundrum
by Singular Poisonous Ashes
Summary: Three girls: Sickle, Jaie, and Luka, have to deal with the fact that nations do exist - unlike their robotic copies, the UNITS, and that the government is out to get them. Their first impression of the nations is more than negative. A moral conundrum is imposed upon the three - help them, even if there's nothing in it for them, or give them up for the government to erase?


Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter one.

"First of all," Sickle said as she paced back and forwards within the stretch of place between the units and the door, "You must call me Boss and nothing else." But of course, there were protests, mainly from America, "You're not the boss of me!" and Romano, "Chigi! If Spain couldn't be my boss, how could you, fuckface!" but also Iceland, "We disagree with that," and Romania, "Let me show you what Vlad the impaler was so famous for. It won't hurt. . . well, if you're me." Of course, Sickle kept most of her focus on Romania, as he was the only one who'd resorted to threats.

However, America was balling his hands into fists at the blatant way she was ignoring him and Romano seemed just as offended that someone not even a Nation would attempt domination over them. It was America who threw the first punch, but Sickle reflexively ducked, the punch sailing over her head, before she made use of the excess momentum in his punch to force him off balance and twist his arm behind him. Romano seemed to see that as a signal for him to come at his fellow nation's rescue, for he launched himself at her back, which Sickle undermined by twisting such that America was turned towards him and he had to abort the action or else he'd hurt his comrade.

Sickle stopped in her tracks a minute later, a flat, serrated blade held at her neck by Romania, who was smiling as amicable as one could while threatening to slit the other's throat. She broke out in a cold sweat, compulsively swallowing, before she slowly raised her hands, "Must you resort to such underhanded methods?" she asked him softly. "If it is necessary," he retorted casually and made her sit down upon the sofa while they towered above her. "Now, things will not be going as you must have expected," Romania said, blade still firmly tracing Sickle's artery. "We're nations. We're so far above you, it isn't even funny. In fact, one might say that your worth, to me, might only amount to one red blood cell."

He smiled. It was not a particularly pleasant one. "And that is might, because there's also the fact that, in truth, such small worth you could amount to would only be because you are a civilian of a nation, - your nation - who conveniently did not end up shipped to your place, as we were." In this day of age androids were freely beeing made and sold for bargain prices. However, though androids had been made to mimick the look of the nations, popular characters in a popular tv series, there's the fact that apparently nations just happened to be real in an alternative dimension. Somehow, they'd found themselves stranded in this dimension and because they'd looked so much like the androids, had been shipped accordingly to one who had bought the androids. In truth, Sickle had already been explained all that but she wasn't ethical, in that she hadn't cared.

She'd been delivered nations, so she might as well make use of them, went her brain. However, there was also the fact that no matter how strong and agile she might be, she wasn't a match for several nations with intelligence beyond her own. She was, as Romania said, also insignificant in the grand scheme of things and as such, Murphy's Law would act accordingly. Of course, Sickle didn't much care despite her lack of worth in the eye of the universe because of how she regarded worth. Having worth meant being useful, being useful meant that somebody might want to use you. Having no worth, hence, not being useful meant she could do whatever she wanted and not have to worry about people manipulating or using her.

"You must have need for identification papers and the like?" Sickle blurted out, not even attempting to stop herself, "And I know a legal way you can get them, for as long as your stay in this dimension. You need my help, you cannot kill me." Romania smiled, sweetly, "And how about I knock on your next door neigbour, who probably will let the secret spill, since it musn't be that big of a one because of how ordinary you happen to be." Sickle felt she'd been insulted, she just didn't know how. "You cannot kill me," she said again, "Because Hetaoni corporation knows your here. You will be the most likely suspects. Do not deny it." They didn't.

She smiled, as he removed the dangerous bladed thingy from her neck. He didn't bother extending a hand to help her up, which was rude but not too much to be concerned about, and she scedaddled to the kitchen. "By the way," she heard America call after her, "Do you take any defense course, or martial arts?" Probably bothered by how Sickle had been able to hold him busy for a while. "No," she said, as she searched for five glasses in her cupboard, "I did do gymnastics, though. Do not call it a pansy sport; I cannot be held responsable for my reaction to that." How she loved her gymnastics.

"So, what do you do for fun around here?" Romano asked, while glancing around the messy and disorganised room with disapproval. He was actually quite OCD and getting urges to clean the whole mess up. Sickle walked from under her gate, until she was in the living room again. The five of them were all inspecting their surroundings, the glass cabinets containing the weapons she collected and the tasperies hanging on the walls. Her furniture had a classy feel to it, oak and chrome. The sofa stood against the wall, opposite the television. A carpet stood between the two. The room was half way separated from another by way of the bookcases that were placed between the television space and the table surrounded by cushions and the glass wall which could be opened and led to the koi pond in the back garden.

"I take a bus to the mountains nearby and take a hike," she answered while retreating back to the living room, giving each of the nations a glass of some apple juice, and keeping a glass for herself. "Other than that, watch television, jog, read books, hang out with friends, go on the internet, write stories . . . I do a lot," she commented as she took place on her oak table and took a sip of her glass, waiting for the others to do the same. "Is that so?" Romania asked, giving his glass a dubious look, which was just hurtful. If she wanted to get rid of them, it wouldn't be through such gauche a method as poison.

He seemed to come to the same conclusion though, as he was sipping at his glass five minutes later while Romano interrogated her on which country she was in, where in the country side, etc, etc and where she hiked. "It's Switzerland," she told them, "I'm a Swiss." Two out of five nations made a noise of comprehension, America saying, "It explains so much, so much!" But he seemed to be prone of such outbursts so she forgave him.

Nevertheless, it did make her curious, "What is Switzerland like?" she queried giving them looks of curiosity. She tapped the surface of the oak table for no reason in particular. "Oh, a gun happy psycho," America said flippantly, not even understanding the irony of his own words. "I see," she commented non-commitably and then returned to answering Romano's questions while Iceland snooped through her garden. An hour later, Sickle remembered that she was going to have guests over for dinner and told the nations so.

"I can hide in the closet!" America ventured, with a laugh. "Do we even need to hide?" Iceland quiried, bitterly. All of them hid nevertheless, by the time her guests had come. "Ja?e, Luka," she nodded at her two best friends and stepped aside from the doorway. Ja?e came from Asia, wore Chinese silk, and didn't talk much. She walked close to Sickle, brushing her sleeve past the girl's cheek in greeting and was then gone, having left for the living room.

Luka, meanwhile, came from Poland and greeted her with an exuberant hug, though she only brushed herself against Sickle briefly, before she spun around, blew Sickle a kiss, and then skipped away. Both had discarded their coats on the welcome mat, and Sickle bent down to pick them up. As she did so, the closet door opened a bit, and out popped Norway's hand. She smiled as she handed him the coats for him to hang up on the hooks inside.

She couldn't bring herself into vocalising her thanks, so she briefly widened her smile before he slid the door shut again. She stepped away, briefly wondering whether she would tell her friends about the nations. Ja?e and Luka knew that Sickle was going to buy herself units, so their presence wouldn't be that unusual. But Sickle knew that the nations would more likelier concent to hiding each time Luka and Ja?e were over rather than allowing others to believe themselves as insequintal, subpar to even humans. Maybe she should tell them, but the truth. It would make the mess easier to deal with, as Sickle downright refused changing her habits just because of the nations presence in her life.

She walked inside the living room, noticing that Luka was perched on the table where she'd been previously. Ja?e was seated properly on the sofa, a distant look on her face. "There were others here," she said, as she bowed her head and glanced at the five glasses left out. Luka followed that up with a brighter, "And they musn't have left, because you make any guests you have wash their own cups and dishes. Hence why Ait? never voluntarily hangs out with us anymore."

She seemed amused despite that fact. Ait? came from Korean, and was often in Switserland on holiday. All four of them were friends, though Ait? did ineed not come and hang over at Sickle's house anymore, but that was alright. They could hangout away from the house or in Luka's. "It is true," Sickle admitted with a glance towards the kitchen, where she knew that one of the nations was hiding. She down on the carpet, bringing her legs to her stomach. "I have to tell you something, Luka, Ja?e." Her friends exchanged a look with one another, Ja?e with a puzzled frown and Luka a neutral face. "Don't tell me. . . " Luka said, "You're pregnant." Sickle snorted, bringing a hand up to cup her mouth to keep her from giggling somewhat hysterical.

"I bought units," she said, "But what I ended up with aren't androids at all." There was a meaningful silence latching on her words. "Oh my god," Luka said, a light of comprehension in her eyes, "Oh. My. God." Ja?e looked vaguely amused, like she knew what Luka was thinking. "You bought slaves! Oh my god," Luka looked at Ja?e for support, "We shouldn't have let her more or less sociopathic traits go undeterred just because we though 'em funny! She's now bought into the slave trade - we're criminals as well because we're her accomplishes!" Sickle started to laugh in earnest, and her laughter just seemed to rile Luka further up, or act as confirmation in some way, because the girl repeated;

"Oh my god, Ja?e, snap her out of it! Get the smelling salts from the cabinet! Also, come up with an alibi for us, will you?" Ja?e shook her head in disbelief for Luka's stupidity, saying in a pleasantly indulgent way, "Darling, you've come to the incorrect conclusions again," to which Luka pouted, and it was her turn to shake her head, blonde curls billowing out over her shoulders, "That's untrue! Right, Sickle-chan?" she looked at Sickle for help.

Sickle had finally regained her composure, and with a glint in her eyes, said; "Are you sure about that, Ja?e-dono? The conclusions she has come to were perfectly reasonable ones, taking my habits and quirks in mind." A crack appeared in Ja?e's composure and she said, quietly through her black lashes, "Even if reasonable, they are incorrect, Sickle?" And she was just so adorable that Sickle couldn't bare to lie. So she remained quiet, a perfectly mysterious smile lingering on her lips, like she was the Mona Lisa in human form. "Your avoidance to answer the question just means that I'm correct,"

Ja?e accertained, voice the slightest touch relieved even to Luka's displeasure, who knew it to be true. She snorted, flinging herself away from the sofa and towards the bookcase, fingers searching for one to take home with her. She'd lost interest in Sickle's real reason, for it wasn't any which she'd come up with. Sickle smoothed her vest down, saying; "The truth is that I ended up with presentations of countries, the real versions of them, that came from an universe in which they are real." Ja?e took this all in with a neutral face.

Luka, meanwhile, had abandoned the bookcases to fling herself down onto the arm of the sofa, leaning towards Sickle with an inquisite look, "S' that so, s' that so?" she asked, with an intrigued curl to her lips. She nuzzled her head into the other's arm, to gain her attention. Sickle's hand absently came down upon Luka's head, to pet the other, "I only speak the truth, and the truth only," she certified with an agitated frown to her face. Now wasn't the time to amend that she spoke only the truth when the truth could be used to her advantage, even Ja?e understood that.

In a voice, quiet and thoughtful, Ja?e eventually said; "What do they want from you?" while she turned her head to stare straight at the empty glasses. Sickle winched at her friend's observation skills even as a nation strolled from the kitchen, apparently taking that as his cue to come introduce himself to the newlings. Luka blanked out, seeing a version of the unit of her dreams. Yes, it was Iceland, and he looked quite annoyed with Sickle. "Wasn't the point of us hiding that you wouldn't tell anyone of our existence?" he asked, flatly ignoring the two other girls in the room.

Sickle ducked in her head, an eyebrow twitching but nevertheless a bit admonished from his words, like she usually wouldn't. The truth was, that if America, Romano, or Romania had said those words she would have been able to ignore them. But she could not when they came from him. He then turned his disapproving gaze on the two others there, and said in an annoyed voice, "Now that you know about us as well, you cannot leave this house, where we can keep an eye on you and keep you from making the mistake of telling others about us." Luka immediately protested on this, "Woah, woah, wait there mister - who are you, to say to us, what we'd do? You don't even exist here - you're nothing!"

To which Sickle jumped in between the nation and her friend, even as Norway - who'd been making his way there upon hearing Iceland's voice - launched himself at the girl and collided into her, knocking her off balance. Like a stack of cards, both of them fell down, though Luka cushioned his fall. "Black spots," Sickle told them all flatly from the floor, where the back of her head had connected with the carpet. As she fainted, Ja?e easily dragged the other nation away from her, face tight with tension. Luka, meanwhile, glared at Iceland, saying in a tone spitting venom, "Can't do anything for yourself, so you need a watchdog to attack anyone who might even call you names? Woah, poor baby," and watched as the three remaining nations entered the room.

* * *

><p>AN So this is short for the first chapter, but once I get into it, like with my other stories, I'll stick to a longer word-per-chapter schedule. Also, since I now have three+ stories ongoing, be prepared for some time between updates.


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